Magic and Magnolias
by Entwinedlove
Summary: One-shot. / A chance encounter between Jasper Whitlock and Hermione Granger leads to a steamy one-night stand. Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Post-Twilight (disregards sequels), EWE


AN: I've been reading Jasper-centric fanfiction for years now but I believe I lifted Jasper seeing emotions in colour from "A Forest Fire" by Bedelia. You should check it out, it's amazing!

Jasper took a tentative breath in and tried to embrace the burn in his throat as he was finally able to get rid of the stale air he'd been keeping in his lungs since they'd got on the flight hours ago. Though breathing wasn't required, it was natural, and it was something he relied on heavily to map out the world around him. Holding his breath for so long annoyed him to no end. He breathed deeply and let his sense of smell direct him.

He could see all the people in the club as pillars of colour and scent, could see the paths the waitresses made through the seating area, could see the back and forth way the bartenders moved in their designated areas. Each colour was an overall emotional tone and the more he focused in on one or the other, those colours shifted until he could parse out individual emotions. Most people in the club carried some level of contentment, excitement, and arousal.

Unlike Edward, who would rather seek isolation when his gift became too overwhelming, Jasper sought out groups of people feeling good things. Of course, Jasper had to deal with all the appetising blood and the burn that never went away but he could usually ignore it unless he was surrounded by other vampires.

Carlisle had suggested they all spend a night or two resting before they travelled on to their destination. Esme had purchased a new home in one of the Scandinavian countries to help Edward try and get over the loss of his girlfriend. Jasper didn't consider the human girl to be a mate for his broody brother. As powerful as her emotions had been, theirs wasn't a forever sort of love. Fate had proved it when she'd died in a car accident on one of those rare sunny days when Edward couldn't be with her. Jasper had tried not to laugh at the irony of the girl surviving a hunting vampire only to die in a car accident two months later. It seemed Death had come after what he felt he'd been cheated of.

Alice had been almost as inconsolable as Edward and the house in Norway was supposed to be a change of scenery to help them cope. From the red-violet that had been tingeing their emotional pillars when they were in one another's company, Jasper had the sneaking suspicion they were helping each other cope. At least in a physical capacity.

She hadn't said anything and Jasper was complacent and apathetic enough to not care. If she wanted to fuck Edward she could. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to admit it and upset the apple cart of the Cullen family once again.

On his next breath, Jasper caught the scent of oranges and magnolias in bloom. There was something else, too, something undefinable that he had never come across before. It was beyond attractive. He knew the immediate bloodlust of encountering a singer—he'd felt Edward's—this wasn't it. Whoever this was, she was something more.

He started walking and breathing shallowly to find her in the crowd. He felt his mobile vibrate and, after glancing at it, knowing it was Alice, he turned the thing off. For once, he wanted to go into something without foreknowledge. The scent had stirred his cock more than the burn in his throat.

He found her sitting at the bar just receiving a whisky. She grimaced as she sipped it but drank again. Her emotions were vibrant and electrifying. She was irritated, angry, upset, and defiant. Jasper couldn't help the smirk as it formed on his face. He liked her already.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked. She glanced up at him and then down to the barstool next to her, she shook her head and her curls bounced around her face. He could smell the product she used to smooth them waft towards him. More citrus. Her hair was a lovely brown and it complimented her complexion and smooth skin. Her eyes were a deep brown and he had a feeling that her tell would be in her eyes. If he hadn't had his ability to feel her emotions, all he would need to know what she was feeling was her eyes. Her nose was straight and small and her lips were painted a ruby red. They matched her slinky dress.

"No, go ahead," she answered, her accent was posh and crisp. She sounded like a proper little lady. She returned to staring at her tumbler of whisky.

He flagged the bartender and gestured to her glass, receiving a tumbler with two fingers of whisky. He pretended to sip it as he turned around to lean against the wooden bar and watch the people around him. "You're a bit overdressed for a place like this, aren't you, love?" he asked, letting a hint of his old Southern accent bleed into his words.

She glanced at him, wary, but he gave her a disarming smirk and she returned it with a grin of her own. He almost pushed a little trust her way but decided against it. If he couldn't get her to spill her secrets like any other man might it would make him feel like a cheater. "I was at an engagement party before this."

"Not yours?" he asked.

She gave a little mirthless laugh, "Yes, actually. It was."

He hadn't realised he'd leaned close to her until he pulled back. "What happened?"

She shrugged with one shoulder and sipped at her whisky again, wrinkling her nose. "Ugh, how do you drink this?" She turned her body to match his, leaning back against the bar, though her legs were aimed his way a bit.

He shrugged in answer, "You ordered it first."

"I just wanted something that would get me plastered the fastest."

He let his smile slip a bit and met her gaze. Hoping the sincerity he felt at her obvious unhappiness came through without his gift. "What went wrong, sweetheart?"

"Apparently, his _girlfriend_ got invited to our engagement party. Made a scene. He told her that I sprung the engagement on him and he would have broken off with me had he known I was going to do it. Said it right there in front of all the guests. My coworkers, his family. I couldn't stick around to watch everything I'd built and worked towards for seven years crumble at my feet." She shook her head and took a larger swallow of her whisky. She still made a face at the taste but didn't complain this time.

"That sucks, princess."

She gave him a little smile without looking directly at him, which gave her a coquettish look. "What's with the nicknames?"

He chuckled and confessed a bit more than he expected of himself. "Figured I'd try them out. My former girlfriend wasn't that keen on them. 'Sides, I don't know your name yet." He switched his tumbler to his left hand and held out his right, "I'm Jasper Whitlock, by the way."

She returned the handshake, firm and confident. "Hermione Granger."

He smiled at her and raised an eyebrow. "Are you plastered enough?"

"Enough for what?" she asked even as she took another swig. He reckoned that she wouldn't be making that face by the time she got to the bottom of her glass.

"For you to feel like doing something wild."

She hummed and held up her glass, judging how much she'd had. She took another swallow. "It's a fine line, isn't it? Where's the line between sober enough to consent but drunk enough not to care."

"Oh, I want you to care, darlin'. There's nothing wrong with casual sex."

The alcohol had made her start to flush but it wasn't until he called her darlin' and spoke openly about what he wanted that she actually blushed in embarrassment. He closed his eyes and revelled in the emotion as it washed over him. Her scent bloomed around him and he opened his eyes to find she had leaned closer.

"I've never done anything that crazy."

"Maybe it's time you start."

She grinned and drained the last swallow from her glass and he pretended to sip his again. "All right," she said. Her voice and actions were confident but he could feel the tension she carried in her stomach, the nerves dancing on her shoulders and up her neck, the fear tickling at the back of her brain. He didn't want her afraid, he had no intention of hurting her. She smelled too good to eat.

He stood and pulled out his wallet, paying for their drinks. He left his on the bar and turned, offering her his arm. She glanced at it bemused for a moment and then humoured him by hooking her arm around his. He escorted her out into the balmy summer London air and paused to let her eyes adjust to the dim light of dusk.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I've got a hotel room about a five-minute walk from here if that's all right with you?" he asked as they strolled down the pavement. They were in a relatively well-to-do neighbourhood, so he hoped that she felt comfortable. She nodded and they walked in companionable silence as the hotel Alice had booked for them came into view. He hadn't even bothered going up to any of the rooms she had booked, knowing she would have picked the most expensive. To Alice, the most expensive meant the best. He would have been happy with something much less grand.

"You're staying at St Pancras?" she asked, eyes wide as she looked up at the gothic building.

"Something wrong with the place?" he asked as he held the door for her and they walked into the foyer. She didn't answer because she was too busy looking at the surrounding with her mouth slack-jawed. Jasper pulled the keycard out of his pocket that Alice had given him and read the name of the suite he was in. He'd caught a glimpse of a map on his way out earlier so he didn't need to bother questioning the concierge regarding how to get to his room. As he led Hermione to the elevators, she must have realised she was gawking because she closed her mouth and returned her attention to him. Though this time, she eyed him with more scrutiny. He could have pretended not to notice but decided he liked her knowing that he'd been watching her. And he liked her watching him. "See something you like, darlin'?"

She blushed again, less this time, and looked down, breathing deeply as if to settle her nerves.

When he opened the suite room and looked around, his eyebrows raised. Everything was period. Not necessarily to his age but it was Victorian all the way, aside from the modern amenities. Alice had outdone herself.

Hermione had that awestruck look again even as she focused more on him. "You look like you haven't seen the room before."

"I hadn't. My sister set it up for me. I went directly from the plane to the club."

"Oh," she said. Her tone had softened and her insecurities were starting to rush back to the surface, it seemed the short walk from the club to the hotel had sobered her some. He glanced back at her and picked apart her emotions. She was feeling a rainbow's assortment of colours. Orange for her awkwardness, turquoise for her defiance, light purple and sky blue for her interest and awe. And there, buried a bit below those, was hot pink. Arousal.

He hoped to get that pink to turn ruby red, and to glisten like fresh, thick blood. The burn in his throat flared but he pushed it down, clearing his throat a little to try and brush away the awkward tension that had seeped into the room between them. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"A little."

He gestured for her to join him at a sitting area and he reached forward, turning on the switch next to the fireplace. The natural gas ignited and crackled over the fake wood. It messed with his sense of smell a tad but it created a cosy atmosphere. He could deal with the tradeoff. "How about we talk about what we expect? What we will and won't do?" Her eyes widened and her colours flared ultraviolet for attraction. Someone who liked lists and logic as much as he did. Interesting. "I'll start. All I'm really looking for is an orgasm. I won't be disappointed if there's no penetration. I hope to give you at least two, maybe more, if you're up for it."

Her eyebrows raised and her mouth slipped open again. "I... um... As long as you wear a condom, I'm okay with vaginal penetration. I've never done any... bum stuff... and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that for something casual. I'm definitely interested in an orgasm but I've never had more than one or had them with a partner. So don't get your hopes up?"

He raised an eyebrow at her as if she'd issued a challenge. "Challenge accepted," he said, letting his Southern accent drawl a little. The air around her changed minutely, musky and sweet. Was his accent a turn on? "Vaginal penetration with a condom is fine for me. Are you interested in any kinks?"

Her brow furrowed and her aura bloomed dark blue. "I... I don't think so. Unless passionate counts?"

Jasper elaborated. "I'm not into bondage or domination of any kind. No spankings, blood play, or biting. No hickeys or love bites."

"Oh, no. I'm not... interested in those things." Her aura told a different story but those weren't things they could explore as human and vamp. "How about kissing on the mouth?" she asked.

Damn, how he'd loved to kiss those full, pouty red lips. Unfortunately, razor-sharp teeth and venomous saliva weren't the best combination if he didn't want her in overwhelming pain from a slow and torturous change. He didn't think anyone _could_ be changed that way, he expected their heart would give out before the process was complete. "I'd rather not," he said. He could feel her odd mix of disappointment and relief. "You're welcome to stay the night and enjoy the complimentary breakfast or order anything off the dine-in menu. There's no need for a walk of shame at dawn."

Her colour turned orange and green and then cerulean as her emotions flitted across her face. Nervousness, disbelief, confidence. He reached his hand out to her and raised his eyebrows. "Ready?"

"Yes."

He smiled and led her into the bedroom, letting her walk in ahead of him and shutting the door behind him. He pulled her back gently into his body and kissed up the side of her neck, burrowing his nose and chin through her mess of curls. He liked her hair. It'd been a while since he'd been with a woman with long, beautiful tresses and he had forgotten the way they got in the way of skin. He turned her and pressed her against the door and let his lips find her jaw. He nipped at her earlobe with his lips, kissed and licked the skin down her neck and let his hands find a meandering path up her arms, over her shoulders, and then down. He let his fingers dance over the fabric of her dress, enjoying the texture under his fingertips as he caressed the sides of her breasts.

That hot pink arousal was slowly darkening, sometimes shifting more peach, and when he tweaked her nipples through her dress, that peach slid right on down to a pleasant mix of tangerine and raspberry. Her skin tasted wonderful: citrus, oranges mainly, mixed with the floral of magnolia blooms, and the heavy earthy scent of something else mixed it into a perfect, heady blend. "You're so beautiful, Hermione," he murmured, speaking of both her body and the vibrant emotional ambrosia. "I can't wait to see what you've got under this dress. Everything about you is enchanting. You've definitely got me under your spell."

The beautiful overwhelming raspberry of her aura slipped into a mucky purple-brown as light blue blended into it for a moment as she giggled. He wondered why she found his words funny but as he slipped to his knees in front of her and nipped at her thigh over her dress, the raspberry deepened into a deep cranberry, bypassing strawberry and cherry on its way down. He inhaled and relished the scent of her womanly ambrosia, already predicting that he would have a hard time letting her sleep at all tonight.

He slid his hands up her thighs and burrowed up under her dress, intent to lick at the front of her knickers only to find she wasn't wearing any and he got a mouthful of slick skin instead. They both moaned at the contact and he dove in with enthusiasm. Licking and sucking. He had a hard time not letting his tongue move so quickly it vibrated. He heard and felt as her body slumped back against the door and she spread her legs to give him easier access. He wished his fingers weren't so cold as he brushed them up her inner thighs, feeling her skin break into gooseflesh before he ever so gently pressed a single digit into her.

Her body clenched at his cold intrusion and she moaned again. Her hands dug into his hair and pulled and he hummed, feeling her enjoyment. "Yes, please, more," she muttered and he added a second and curled his fingers forward and pressed against her g-spot. Her hips rocked hard against his face as he strummed her pleasure spots with a steady, untirable precision that only a vampire could master. The cranberry of her aura darkened to a deep, blood red and he continued to lick and finger her as it drained of colour until it was such a deep burgundy it was almost black. That's when she orgasmed.

It rained down on her, crashed around her, swallowed her from the inside out. Jasper couldn't help vocalising with her as it burst over his own nerve endings with phantom sensations and overwhelming pleasure. "Yes," he hissed into her oversensitive flesh. Proud to have done it without influencing her emotions with his at all. He'd used his advantages of being a vampire, of course, but that wasn't something he could realistically refuse to utilise. Either way, as she started to slide down the door as her knees gave out he moved away from her to pick her up. There was a dopey smile on her face as he placed her on the bed, gently pulling her dress up over her body. She raised her arms in assistance.

Jasper liked the way her hair fluffed around her head when her dress was pulled away and loved the citrusy-scent that blossomed around him. He reached over and opened the bedside table drawer. He should have had no reasonable expectation to find condoms there but he had an Alice and sure enough, there was an unopened box of twelve sitting in the otherwise empty drawer. He pulled one out and set it on top of the table to grab easier. Hermione scooted to the middle of the bed and laid down, still watching him with half-lidded eyes.

She reached out to him and the image she made was worth immortalising, capturing in marble. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Erotic in the extreme. Her aura had lightened back into a cherry red as he joined her on the bed. He lowered himself down to kiss and lick her nipples and he let his eyes slide shut as she tangled her fingers in his hair again. He enjoyed the sensation of her tugging on his hair.

After less time than he would have liked, she tugged harder like she wanted him to stop and he sat up. She tugged on his shirt and he pulled it off over his head. Before it had cleared his hair, her hands had attacked his belt and the fly of his jeans. He assisted her, shucking his shoes and socks with his jeans. He returned to kneeling on the bed next to her and she grabbed his cock with her hand. He thought she was going to be daring and put the condom on for him but instead, she brought her mouth down over his knob.

"Hail Mary, mother of god," he muttered. The intensity of heat that enveloped him was the closest he'd get to fire without getting burned. He could feel the smile on her lips at his blasphemous swear and he let a lazy grin sweep over his lips. "You've got the sweetest mouth, darlin', I can't even begin to tell you. If I die tonight, I'll have no need for an afterlife. I've experienced heaven right here with you."

Her tongue swirled down his shaft and his eyes rolled back in his head. If he'd never experienced this before, he would have had no control and would have shot his seed down her throat the instant she put her mouth on him. He let his fingers play with her hair a few minutes longer but when her other hand reached up to fondle his sac he was lost. He couldn't let her cut the night short like that. He tugged gently, "enough of that. You're fantastic at it but I believe I had another orgasm or two to bestow upon you."

She smiled at the compliment and wiped at her mouth. She reached up and kissed at his jaw and he almost turned his head to kiss her fully on the mouth, the consequences be damned. She was just too much. Her arousal was simmering between cherry and cranberry and he was determined to drain it to black at least one more time tonight. He reached over and grabbed the condom, opened the package with ease, and slid it into place with little trouble.

She laid back against the pillows and he loved the way her skin looked against the stark white of the duvet. She was magnificent. He knelt between her legs and let his fingers lightly play over her breasts and stomach, then down to her thighs. He watched her face, assessing every emotion and its colour as it flittered over her features and blossomed up from her chest. When he was absolutely sure she didn't have any reservations, he laid over her and pressed himself into her sweet source of nectar. The way was easy and smooth as silk and she moaned as he filled her. He tried to come up with something to say, some light dirty talk, but nothing came to him as he joined with her. The experience was divine. She reached up and kissed the underside of his jaw and he tipped his head down to kiss and lick at her neck. He wanted to suckle on her skin but knew better.

His first movements were slow and gentle but she seemed receptive to something a bit more primal. He held himself up with one hand and held her hip with the other and let his hips snap against hers, sinking in deep with every thrust. He was careful. He'd learned quick enough back in the day that if he wasn't he'd shatter a woman's hips and their screams of pain were horrific. He'd drink quickly and finish later, disgusted with himself to find he was practically a necrophile. It had taken him a dozen girls before he found just the right amount of pressure but now he didn't have any trouble.

She moaned and gasped at just the right times, but he could tell that although she was into it, penetration wasn't enough to bring her off. It seems she'd learned to fake her way through sex. That just wouldn't do. He leaned back, bringing the temptation of her throbbing pulse point away from his mouth and let his fingers tweak her nipples. That helped, her colouring was a steady cranberry now but when he brought the thumb of one hand down to her clit, her aura slipped close to the colour of crushed blackberries. So damn close.

He kept her there, right on the edge for a while. Letting himself edge with her. Finally, she got enough of being on the edge of orgasm and started begging. Her hips were undulating and doing a dance of their own under his and he delighted in it. "Please, Jasper, please. I'm so close..."

"Yes, darlin', just like that." He pressed a little harder, flicked his thumb and might have moved his finger fast enough to vibrate. The last of the colour drained from her aura, down to black-like death, and her orgasm exploded over her like a nuclear blast, downing everything in the radius of her blast zone, including him. He rode her through it—both his and hers—until he couldn't keep his rhythm anymore and he fell over her in syphoned exhaustion.

He didn't want to pull away from her heat but he knew he must. He kissed her temple before moving back and away from her. He removed the condom and tied the end in a knot, offering her a look to show that it wasn't leaking. After a moment, where all she did was blink up at him, recognition seemed to click and then he tossed it in the rubbish bin next to the bed. He laid on his side next to her and panted, enjoying the afterglow emotions that emanated from her.

After a while, when she had caught her breath, she rested her head against his shoulder. He let her snuggle against him though he worried she'd notice the cold, hard feel of his body and start to question what he was. He could already feel the way his chill caused her nipples to bead where they pressed into him. "Who knew casual sex with a vampire would be so amazing," she murmured nonchalantly.

His eyebrows shot up and he glanced down at her, knowing his eyes were wide in shock. "How..."

Hermione smirked up at him before chuckling. "I'm a witch and I work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I'm trained in noticing the difference between humans and humanoid beings, like werewolves and vampires. Didn't you wonder why I wasn't scared of you?"

His mouth dropped open slightly and he paused, confused. He ran over every interaction, every flash of colour that he'd seen in her before looking back down at her. "No, I was too busy trying to identify why you smelled so good."

"You're not planning to drink from me, though, are you? I'd assume that's something you'd do at the height of ecstasy," she said.

"I might have planned to have a bit more fun first," he hedged. She still hadn't left his embrace.

"Oh," she said, sounding only a tad flustered.

"There _are_ eleven more condoms," he added. He wasn't expecting the flash of her arousal to turn from baby pink to strawberry at the intimation. He couldn't help the smile that caught on his lips. Then something she'd said seemed to click into place and he took a deep breath, pressing his nose into her hair. "A witch, huh?"

"You don't seem too surprised."

"I think that's the wonderful earthy smell. I think I'm smelling your magic."

She attempted a discreet sniff of herself, though no doubt all she came away with was the lingering scent of sex in the air. "What do I smell like?"

He took a deep, exaggerated breath in and rolled from her arms to hover over her. He pinned her with a hungry look and felt a thrill at seeing her aura turn cherry red again. He gave her a predatory grin before answering, "Oranges, magic, and magnolias."


End file.
